Race for the Prize

Hi. I have many things to relay to you readers that have started to pile up here. I'll do my best. Where to start. Oh, this is cool. A little over a week ago when I was in Tulsa, I went with my little brother to see a documentary about the Flaming Lips called "Fearless Freaks". It was amazing. Seriously one of the most interesting documentaries I've ever seen. With any luck, they'll be selling it soon, or playing it at more theaters. Anyways, one of the band members, Steve Drozo, was there! He's the shit too. Sure, I know what you're thinking... he's no Wayne Coyne. This is true. However, he is the real musical talent in the band. Wayne Coyne writes the lyrics and sings of course, but guess who writes all the music and plays piano, synthesizer, guitar, and drums on their recordings.... STEVE FUCKING DROZO. Long story short, I got to meet him. Here is the photo that came from this cosmic encounter.



If you've never seen him in the context of his fellow bandmates, here you go.



So that was awesome. In other news, I've been working my balls off on drawings and sketchup models, but everything is still in transition, so I don't have any finalized images for you yet. But I'll post that shit soon. I've really been focused on it, getting a little obsessed, which is cool. Finally I don't feel useless anymore. I've been playing with the band, although the singer (Helga) is about to go back to Norway for a month, so our progress will be put on hold. But dude, when Helga gets back, Chicago better watch its cornhole. Oh yeah, and the weird music playing (or linking at the bottom of the entry) is a part of the "score" for my buddy Zach's new short film. Its about two jehovah's witnesses that go door to door and end up at a crazy pregnant woman's house who thinks she's carrying the son of god. When they express disbelief, she keeps them prisoner and poisons one of them. Weird.

Well, hope this message finds you doing wonderfully. Give me a lil' hello, won't you?

Second Coming

Oh my god.

It's really weird that your brain, which is so complex, and controls all cerebral activity, is in the end, just a gut like all the others. Doing some awesome work for Lance Lauderdale, a name which you might recall from previous entries. Designing a women's fitness center from my apartment right now. Surprisingly excited about it too. This is a weird and unique opportunity. More soon. Including images of the fitness shit.

Sweet, Small-Scale Chicago Design Competition!

Not to get all Jimmy on you, but check this out. Seems cool. I might enter. Small scale shit is the balls!


ReThink/ReDesign/ReCycle

Ok, I'm back...

Hi guys. I'm back in Chicago now, after a little week and a half visit home to see my family and watch my little brother graduate from high school. It was a nice little trip, feel like I hit the reset button a little bit. I have some things to report, got a little part time architecture thing going, starting tomorrow, so that's good.. at least its something. Hope all of you are doing well, and I'll give you a better entry tomorrow. Kinda in a weird mood presently cause I drove.. so just got here after a 11 hour drive. More soon!

Rent "The Cockettes" NOW!

Hi everybody. Ok listen. Last night I rented a documentary called "The Cockettes" about a San Francisco theatre group in the seventies consisting of acid-dropping, bearded-hippy drag queens. Wow, it is hilarious and awesome. There's a classic quote every five seconds, too. What a rediculous "movement". The group was founded when a young actor named George Harris traveled from New York to San Francisco, and was forever changed by what he found there. Here is a picture of him before the trip:



Pretty normal looking dude right? Well, after spending some time among the hippy culture in San Francisco, and no doubt indulging in a slew of mind-altering psychedelics, he "blossomed" and legally changed his name to....


The rest is history. He founded the theatre group known as the "Cockettes". (although, if he had it his way, the name would've been "The Angels of Light".) They all lived in the Cockettes' Commune House together, and began performing sloppy, drug-induced musicals at a seedy venue called "The Palace" in San Fran. You really just have to see it to believe it. It's incredible. I'll leave you with a couple more images.







"The Cockettes are to theatre what Captain Beefheart was to music. It's mere coincidence that they both start with a C."
~Alejandro Francesco.

Burt Bacharach is God.

Accept it and move on.



Burt on Speed

Oooo, good dinner.

Hi everyone! I just made a delicious fucking dinner. Chicken, premarinated in Stubb's Chicken Marinade, (the absolute shit, get some), seasoned, long-grain wild rice, and some fucking pinot grigio. Sweet Christ, it was good. Perhaps the most "adult" meal I've been responsible for to date. Let's take a moment for Stubb's.



Ok, good stuff.

Man, I was gonna write a lot more, but I'm gettin' wine sleepy. I love you all. Have a pleasant evening. Who knows what I will have for you tomorrow.

Instant Bullshit!

Instant Bullshit! (John Lennon Cover)

Silly new song to listen to!

One Trick from the Dirty Drifter

by Zach & Al

YES!!!! Another dream illustration!!!

Thanks, Nick! You're the fucking business man! (for the narrative that corresponds with this illustration, and Mark's down below there, see the entry titled "Scary Nightmares!" Click on the link below to see it up close and personal-like.



Nick's Illustration

I just had a funny memory.

I was in Spain. By myself. And it was very pretty, but almost sad. And one night at 3:00 am I was awakened by a loud knock on my door. And it was the night clerk telling me that "music is simply unacceptable at this hour." And I had headphones on, so I felt like a volume pig.

Mark has the BALLS to illustrate my dreams!

(my email to him after viewing the work)

Oh my god, mark.  I can't begin to tell you how fucking cool you are for doing that.  Its going on my blog asap.  Right now.  The second I finish typing this.  Holy shit.  I'm not gay, but I LOVE YOU.  Keep up the GOOD work.

Al

Click on the link below to view this masterpiece in a larger and better format.



Mark's Masterpiece

job opportunity!

anyone who sends me an illustration of the forementioned nightmares will recieve a check in the mail from me for the amount of one dollar. Do it.

Scary Nightmares!

Hi folks! Hope this entry finds you doing well. I'm ok. Been looking for jobs all day. Gettin' some good leads, it seems like. I'm officially buckshottin' it, trying to find anything from radioshack to a stuffy architecture job. So I figure that increases my chances of actually getting something. Gonna put on some music real quick. My computer chooses Strawberry Fields Forever. Good computer. And its the raw, anthology version no less. Oh man, I had some wicked nightmares last night. A simple yet terrifying one where I'm riding in this old elevator, with this crude, iron gate of a door. There is an old businessman in the elevator with me and for some reason I can't remember what floor I'm supposed to go to. (maybe because its a dream, and I'm not actually supposed to go to any particular floor) So I just ride the elevator up to a rediculously high floor with this creepy old man, who I'm cautiously watching in my periferal vision. He gets off the elevator, and before the gate shuts, the elevator suddenly just plummets. All of my weight lifts and I'm thrown against the ceiling of the elevator, watching the floors flash past in front of me like a filmstrip through a projector. I knew that at any second I would be crushed to death. So that's scary dream number one. (and it was a doozie) Now for scary dream number two, which is more difficult to describe and composed of more parts. In the begining, I am flying a helicopter over the ocean, and my friend Doug is with me in the cockpit. We have funny amelia earheart looking leather headgear and goggles on. It seemed like a Wes Anderson movie at first, but soon it grew poisonous and ugly. (if I keep switching between present and past tense, it actaully is logical here, because the chronology of the dream was confusing) The helicopter started smoking or something and we had to bring it in for a quick landing. The coast of some fake-looking model train island was approaching on the horizon, so I thrust the controls straight ahead. Doug was calm and collected. Beads of sweat formed on my brow. The view of the dream switched from my point of view to an overhead shot, pulled way back so the helicopter looked tiny and toy-like. It was red and white. It clumsily settled on the swampy coastline of the island. We crawled out of the helicopter and began to head toward the mainland in the distance. The water was waist-high and full of heavy brush and vines. Steam slowly crept across the water's surface. Doug took the lead, and I proceeded hesitantly, fearing that these waters were pregnant with all sorts of venomous creatures. My fears were confirmed when I looked down in horror to see a bright red snake slowly cut in front of me two feet under water. It was as big around as my arm. The intricate patterns across its skin terrified me. This went on for quite some time, and I held my breath as I waded through the water, snakes slithering around and between my cautious legs. I looked up to see that Doug, now far ahead of me, was entering the opening of some crumbling stone ruins, submerged waist high in the waters. I followed and we found ourselves in the interior of a vast ancient space, with the glare of the sun cutting through an immense opening in the ceiling of the structure, similar to the oculous in the pantheon. The rest is a mess, and I began to wake up and lose the dream, but I'm pretty sure one of the snakes plunged its teeth into my leg and I began to lose conciousness. So that was the second dream. I woke up so confused, and life has seemed comparatively boring today. Gimee a little hello out there!